


I've Got You (and I'll Never Let Go)

by TheRealAndian



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Family Feels, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I couldn't help myself, Irondad, Peter Parker-centric, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Soul Stone (Marvel), because the ending needed some fixing, spiderson, who am i kidding i don't even know what fluff is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-02-16 11:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18690652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRealAndian/pseuds/TheRealAndian
Summary: Life after the battle is hard. After dying, resurrecting, and losing two of his heroes, Peter Parker is having one hell of a time coping. He would avenge them, but what is there to avenge? Thanos is gone, and so is Tony. There's no bringing them back. But when he dreams of Tony telling him of a way, he can't refuse. He won't give up without a fight. Just like his hero never would.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After Endgame, all I could think was "Well this all seems...horrible...," and I knew I had to fix it.  
> So here, have my angst. If I don't write it now, I'll never get it out of my system.

Peter leaned back on the monument and watched the people milling below. Some looked up. Others did not. How very ‘New York’ of them, he thought bitterly.

A call from Ned appeared on his HUD, but he ignored it and glanced up at the statue’s very familiar face. How long had he stared at it when the city was having it built? And how long before that? “Hey, Mr. Stark,” he murmured. Up this high—mask on with the speaker muted—no one could possibly hear him, but it still didn’t feel right to speak loud. These were his quiet moments with Tony, not with the universe.

“I ran into Mr. Wilson yesterday,” he told the statue. “He’s taken up the Captain America mantle or something, so it was kinda neat. He’s got his own shield and everything now. Kept the wings, though.”

He looked up at the sky, wishing he could take his mask off while he sat up this high. But he’d been lectured enough for taking it off in public, giving his name out to strangers, and...well, generally failing at the whole ‘secret identity’ thing. “Apparently Cap decided to stay in the past for some reason. Something about Peggy Carter, I think. No one’s really sure how he wound up back in our reality, but now he’s old and living back in Brooklyn.” He had to stop himself from complaining that Tony was the one who should’ve been able to grow old and have a family. He couldn’t dwell on the ‘what should have been,’ only the ‘what we have now.’

And he truly had almost everything he could wish for. Aunt May was working a decent job, Mrs. Potts and Morgan came over fairly often, and he was doing well in school. Most of his closest friends had been caught in the whole Dusting event, too, so they hadn’t graduated without him, and he’d already started to get to know some of the newcomers. He’d even gotten to know some of the other heroes and seen some really incredible things.

But he didn’t have everything.

Tony was still gone. Ms. Romanov, too. Why did they have to go? Why did  _ Tony _ have to go?

No, he couldn’t think about that. The past was the past, and he couldn’t go back without severely messing up the timeline. He couldn’t risk that. He had to live with the reality he was dealt, no matter how painful it sometimes was.

“I miss you, Sir,” he admitted, “but I’m trying to be the hero you saw in me, I promise. If you think I can be better than you, then I’ve got a lot of work to do, but I know you think I can do it, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

He got up—this city wasn’t going to look after itself. Plus, he was a long way from home, and May would kill him if he didn’t check in soon. Happy probably would, too. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Mr. Stark. Don’t go anywhere on me, okay?”

His web caught on the closest building and the air rushed around him. Karen was thankfully silent; she never spoke when he took these detours to Manhattan to see Tony. He plotted a course to the closest train and hitched a ride for a bit before thwipping away towards home, only pausing briefly to rescue a kitten from a flaming apartment.

This was what he was good at: little heroic things that anyone else could do if they cared enough. If Tony could do those things, then he certainly could, too.

May was glad when he got home. They ate dinner together, chatted about their days. Peter recounted his Spiderman-y experiences of the day, and she told him about work. Things were fine. Everything was just that: fine. Normal.

Why did normal have to feel so alien?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Already over 30 kudos!? After a day!?? I'm glad you guys liked the little drabble I wrote last night!
> 
> I've had this idea for awhile, and I'm not sure how long it'll take to write through, but quite frankly, I missed this. I've been working on so much original content that I forgot how fun it was to write some fic. So I guess we'll see how this pans out. It won't update as fast as _He's Not Crying for Himself,_ but I'll try to do at least one a week. I'm just posting this bit now because the other one seemed a bit too much like a one-shot (it doesn't help that I forgot to mark that it wasn't...oops).

He called Ned later that night and apologized for ignoring him earlier. It hadn’t been anything important. Ned just wanted to talk about things they both loved. Star Wars, random ripoff Spiderman merchandise, various heroes and their heroic deeds.

Normal, although Peter was fully aware that Ned did it to keep his mind off of Tony for a while. Ned had always been a good friend.

By nighttime, he crashed like usual, forcing his overenhanced senses to relax and let him rest. That’s what Tony had always told him was important for a hero—especially one that was still in high school. Rest, relax, recover. He could do that.

He shut his eyes and waited for his dreams to drag him into the depths of his darkest memories. He knew they were only dreams, and that the things they showed had already happened, and that he couldn’t change them, but he never liked them. Ever since Mr. Toomes had dropped a warehouse on him, he couldn’t escape the images that flashed through his mind at night and threatened to overtake him during the day. Even before that, the whole thing with Uncle Ben had messed with his mind a lot, too.

Tony had helped him with it all. He’d taught him how to cope. But now Tony was gone, and there was no one to help him keep the terrors at bay. How long before it snapped him in half?

He felt himself drifting, and vaguely braced himself as he did every night. Even months after Thanos, Titan, and the funeral, it never went away.

But when he slipped out of consciousness, he didn’t find himself on the battlefield, cloaked in the scent of blood and fire. He glanced around. The only thing he could see for miles and miles was sand. Dark orange sand. The sky was orange, too, but darker somehow. Maybe a bit more red. Was he dreaming about Tatooine or something? About the sand that was coarse, rough, and got everywhere? No, that was stupid. Besides, there weren’t any suns as far as he could tell. Surely this wasn’t some alien planet, right? He honestly couldn’t be sure about these things anymore.

“Hello?” he called. That was stupid. Now whatever horror creature lived in this endless sand was going to pop out and devour him whole. That’s how these things worked. At least, he was pretty sure.

His senses detected someone or some _thing_ behind him. He turned, half-ready for a fight, only to lower his fists in stunned silence.

“Hey kid,” Tony smirked, looking better than he had in years. “Been a bit, huh?”

Peter looked around, certain this was about to turn into the nightmare he’d expected. He never had a dream with Tony that ended well. Not anymore.

Tony approached him, hands shoved into his pockets. “Relax, Pete. Nothing bad’ll happen here. Scouts honor.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Peter finally let his arms drop the rest of the way to his sides. A dream that didn’t end terribly? A dream with Tony? Wasn’t that too much to ask for Peter Parker?

They stood a mere yard from each other. Peter could easily launch himself at Tony and wrap his impressively strong, skinny arms around the man so he could never leave him again, but he knew Tony wasn’t the most touchy-feely person unless the other person had his permission.

Tony regarded him, a sad smile on his face. “Come here, kid,” he said, holding out his arms.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Tony was surprisingly solid for being a dream apparition. Usually his non-memory dreams weren’t this real. Maybe it was because of his spider powers, or something. That made sense in a dream, right? Those things definitely translated into an imaginatory reality?

Tony held him close, which was something Peter wasn’t accustomed to. Sure, the man had embraced him on the battlefield, but he’d been shielded by armor, and the insanity around them hadn’t given them the chance to have any sort of proper reunion. Not that Peter really knew what Tony had been through for five years. He could still barely believe it was five years.

Here, though, in this orange wasteland, Tony held him without anything to hide away with. No armor, no ‘just getting the door,’ not even his sunglasses were anywhere to be seen. This was Tony as himself, with all the layers peeled back.

“It’s alright, kid,” he whispered, running a gentle hand through Peter’s hair. “I’m here.”

“M-Mr. Stark?” Peter choked. He missed this man so much. “This is...is a really nice dream.”

But it wasn’t fair. How dare his mind conjure this up for him.

Tony pulled away a grinned. There were tears in his eyes. That didn’t make any sense. Since when did the unshakable Iron Man cry? He chuckled, wiping the tears away. “Not just a dream, kid.”

Peter shook his head. “Of course it is.” It always was. But he absolutely wished it wasn’t.

Tony’s light-hearted grin grew wider as he plopped down onto the sand, patting the ground next to him when Peter didn’t follow suite. “Nope. It was just more convenient to drag you here when you fell asleep.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Peter replied, sitting down carefully. He wracked his brain for an explanation for this dream. He’d never really had one that tried so hard to convince him that it was reality. Except for the nightmares, he supposed. But this wasn’t a nightmare, and Tony seemed so...genuine.

But Tony was dead. He’d watched him die with his own two eyes while his spider senses screamed at him that something horrible was happening.

Tony was gone. This Tony couldn’t possibly be real.

Right?

“Pete, I was holding all six Infinity Stones in my hand when I died,” Tony said, staring off into the distant horizon. “You can do whatever you want with those things, and I had them in my hand.” He tore his gaze from whatever he’d been looking at and locked his eyes onto Peter. “Ultimate life hack, kid. I cheated death big time.”

Peter...didn’t know how he felt about that. Surely this was a trick, right? Tony wasn’t _not_ dead, right? If he were still alive, then why hadn’t he made himself known months ago, before the funeral? Immediately after it, even? Why months? Thousands of calculations ran through his mind, dissecting this bizarre dream. He had to make sense of this.

“Don’t overthink it,” Tony smirked, watching him carefully. “Once magic gets involved, things stop making as much sense.”

“But you—”

“Trust me, kid, I know. It doesn’t make any sense and it shouldn’t be possible. But this isn’t a trick, or a dream, or any sort of psychedelic trip. I promise.”

He was absolutely overthinking it. Could this be real? Could he actually be talking to Tony’s ghost or something? If the tried to figure it out much harder, he was afraid his brain might melt.

“I just need you to understand that I’m not exactly dead,” Tony said. “I’m not exactly alive, either, but I’m definitely not dead. More importantly, I need you to do something for me.”

A mission from Tony from beyond the grave? Sure! Why the hell not? Besides, if he really was talking to Tony, or Tony’s ghost or whatever, then maybe he could do something more than save a kitten. Could he bring Tony back? Could he save him?

No, he couldn’t think like this. He couldn’t get his hopes up like that for no reason. Keep the end goal in sight but distant or you’ll get lost in what-ifs. Focus on the mission, instead. That’s what Tony taught him. That’s what he needed to. “What do you need?” he asked.

“I need you to find Steve Rogers,” Tony replied matter-of-factly, as if that were the most obvious course of action after revealing that he wasn’t really dead.

“How am I supposed to do that?” Peter scoffed. Maybe this whole thing was going to turn sour after all. “I mean, sure he’s in Brooklyn, but I have no idea where to start, and plus—”

“I have his address, Pete,” Tony smirked. “I wasn’t gonna send you in completely blind. Who do I look like? Nick Fury?”

Peter blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah, _oh_.”

At least it wasn’t his first rodeo in dealing with the master of snark. “Why do I need to find him?”

“He didn’t put all the Stone’s back, and I need you to get the one he’s still got.”

That little tidbit shocked him almost as much as talking to a not-quite-dead Tony Stark. “What?”

Tony’s face darkened. “He was supposed to go to the past and put everything back where it belonged. Unfortunately, he couldn’t figure out how to put the Soul Stone back, so he gave up and came back to Earth. He’s been carrying it around for the past 80 years or something instead.”

Peter pinched himself, just in case he really was dreaming. Strange how real the pinprick of pain felt. “Is that...is that where we are? The Soul Stone?”

“Bingo. I need you to come get me so someone competent can help me figure out how to get out of here.”

“Couldn’t you just...I dunno, bring him here and tell him to give it to me?”

Tony’s smirk returned, salted with frustration. “He ignored any and all crises that we had to deal with. Actually, he completely avoided them, and he was a cheeky bastard about it, too. Plus, he left Barnes under mind-control and let him assassinate several people including my parents while he lived out his happy life with Peggy Carter. Any respect I had for him died with my body.”

Hearing Tony casually talking about himself dying was a little disconcerting, but Peter brushed it off. There were more important things to worry about. After all, that didn’t sound very Captain America-like of Cap. “So you never tried to talk to him?”

“Nope.”

“And now you want me to talk to him.”

“Just because I refuse to talk to him doesn’t mean you have to, kid,” Tony snickered bitterly.

“Okay, but how am I supposed to explain this?” Peter asked, more than a little frustrated that Tony was being petty. Sure, he had a right to be pissed, but c’mon man. “Do I just walk up and say ‘hey Mr. Stark isn’t dead after all so I need the Soul Stone you’ve been carrying around for a few decades please and thank you?’ I don’t think that’ll go over well.”

The bitterness of talking about Cap practically evaporated from Tony. His thin mustache twitched upwards. “You’ll figure it out, Pete,” he said gently, draping his arm over his shoulders. “I know you will. That’s why I came to you, and not someone else.”

They sat there and stared at the orange horizon for a moment. Everything felt so surreal, but maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t just a dream. Could there actually be a little hope here after all?

Tony broke the silence, much to Peter’s disappointment. “Alright, kid, you’ve gotta go back to reality, so I won’t keep you too long.”

“Go back?” The thought had barely crossed his mind. “Can’t I just...I dunno, _stay_?”

The smirk returned. “You’ve gotta go save me from the fossil of America’s Ass. Staying here’s not going to accomplish anything. Besides, I can’t keep you here forever; your aunt would have my head.”

“But...but I don’t wanna go.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you pull that on me. You’ve got work to do. Now listen up, because you need to know where you’re going.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are blowing me away! I was planning on waiting a bit longer to post this, but I can't help it. Besides, it's not like it's the most exciting chapter...
> 
> I did love writing it, though.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were waiting on someone,” said a vaguely familiar, yet ancient, voice.

Peter turned and tried not to react to the very old Steve Rogers staring back at him. He’d aged well, at least, but...yeah it just felt wrong. “Hey, Captain.”

Cap stepped out onto the balcony, still moving quite well for a man his age. Given his supersoldier-ness, Peter supposed he’d still be around for quite some time. He was definitely breaking  Guinness World Record, though. “It’s Peter, right?” the man asked.

Peter nodded, absentmindedly staring out at the cityscape. Manhattan glimmered across the East River. The old Avengers Tower stood tall over most of the other buildings. Cap had a pretty good view, if he was being completely honest with himself. But he didn’t have the time to keep admiring it. Cap’s being here proved that Tony was alive 100%. Or at least...somewhere between 50 and 95%, since he wasn’t exactly _alive_ , but he also wasn’t _dead_.

“How’d you find me? Did Sam tell you?”

Peter shook his head and tore his gaze away from the horizon. He had a job to do. “I don’t think I’m actually supposed to tell you,” he admitted. Half-true. He didn’t think Tony wanted to be outed just yet, and frankly the truth still scared him a little.

Cap raised an eyebrow. “Then what are you doing here, kid?”

Thank Thor or whoever that Cap couldn’t see his face. When Tony called him ‘kid,’ it was fine, but Cap calling him that felt...wrong somehow. Like he was stealing something that belonged to him and Tony alone.

No, no. He couldn’t think that way. Plus, Cap had to be well over 100 years old by now, not to mention the 70-ish years in ice. _Everyone_ was a ‘kid’ to him. “I was told you had something important. I came to get it.”

Cap’s eyes narrowed just slightly. He was no idiot. “Why don’t you come inside,” he said, his voice dipping toward colder temperatures. “Whatever it is you came for, it’s not good to talk about some things in public.”

Peter followed him, having fully expected this. Thanks to his enhanced senses, he’d recognized the energy of an Infinity Stone long before he made it to Cap’s apartment. The fact that no one had ever come for it was impressive.

Or maybe they had, and they never lived to tell the tale.

Surely Tony would have warned him, though...right?

He shook the thought away. Step 1 was to locate the Stone. If Cap refused to give it to him willingly, then he was going to have to take it by force. The thought of stealing from Captain America didn’t sit very well with him, but being an Avenger wasn’t always the most pleasant thing, either. Plus, Cap had abandoned the Avengers.

“Want anything?” Cap asked, reaching for a sandwich and mug of coffee.

“I actually just ate,” he replied, retracting his mask so he could shoot the man a sheepish smile, “but thanks anyways.”

“Well then,” Cap said, settling down in a chair that might have been as old as he was and gesturing for Peter to do the same across from him, “what are you looking for, Peter?”

Behind the mask, Peter wasn't unaccustomed to doing some stupidly brave things that bordered on suicidal, but laid bare like he was, he wasn’t the best with brave words. His tongue would get completely tied and he would forget how the English language was supposed to work. Quipping at bad guys was nothing. Flat out asking Steve Rogers for the Soul Stone was sending his stress level through the roof. Could he even finesse this? “I um...I know you didn't put them all back,” he muttered.

“You're gonna have to speak up, kid,” Cap smirked. “I'm not as young as I used to be, you know.”

Peter drew in a deep breath. Cap knew he was nervous, and that wasn't helping, because the bad guys rarely knew he was panicking. But Cap wasn’t a bad guy, he had to keep reminding himself of that. “I know you never put them all back,” he said a bit louder, letting the words tumble out faster than he could break something in a fight. “The Stones. You still have one.”

Cap's face was unreadable, save for a small twitch by his left eye. He crossed his arms and watched Peter carefully. “Says who?”

“Dude, no offense, but I can sense it. I'm impressed no one's tried to take it yet.” Why did he take the mask off? This could've been so much easier without Cap judging every change in his expression.

“Who sent you, Peter?”

He couldn't oust Tony. Surely he could come up with something, right? No, of course not, because his brain was short-circuiting more than his last science project. “I-I can't say.”

“Did someone put you up to this? Manipulation? Coercion?”

He shook his head. “If this were fake, I would know.”

“What’s something you’ve never told anyone?”

Peter blinked, confused. The other questions made sense, but this one seemed...a bit weird. “Um...what?”

Cap’s lip twitched upwards. “It’s a crazy universe out there. You can never be too sure, sometimes.”

It still didn’t make much sense, but he guessed it couldn’t hurt. “I was at the 2011 Stark Expo, and Mr. Stark came down and blasted a drone or whatever it was that was about to kill me. He’s the reason I became a hero.”

The other man nodded, apparently satisfied. “I guess that explains things. Did he ever know?”

Peter wondered if Tony was watching him. Was he proud? Was he shocked to know that they had met long before he’d gotten spider powers? “No. At least, I never _told_ him.”

“A shame.” Cap looked out the window, eyes glazed over with sadness. “He cared about you a lot, you know. The first thing he said to me after we got him out of space was ‘I lost the kid.’ He was an absolute mess.”

He wasn’t exactly surprised; he’d known Tony cared about him a lot, even if he rarely said it. He was always looking out for Peter, but he still gave him plenty of room to be himself. If it weren’t for Peter’s incredible ability to lose father figures, Tony might’ve had the chance to actually admit something before winding up trapped in an Infinity Stone.

And even knowing that he _was_ trapped in an Infinity Stone--one that was very close by--it was hard to think of him as alive. After all, it’d already been several months since his death. “I miss him,” Peter said.

Cap nodded solemnly. “Me too.” Then he turned back to Peter. “So why do you need the Stone?”

Again, he wished he’d left the mask on. “I...I’m not actually sure what I’m supposed to do with it, yet,” he admitted. “The conversation didn’t last long enough for me to really find out.”

Cap frowned. “So you can’t tell me who wants it, nor why. That’s not very reassuring, you know.”

“Yeah, I just…” Peter rubbed his face. “I really don’t know, I just know that I need it.”

“This person who asked you to get it,” Cap asked, “do you trust them?”

Peter was glad didn’t have to hesitate for once. “Yes.”

“How long have you known them?”

“Years. Long before Thanos dusted everyone.”

He paused to consider for a long time. Peter’s pulse quickened. Could the man actually be considering giving him the Stone after all, despite the severe lack of information? Even _he_ had to admit that his case was spotty and overall pretty bad, and he was the _king_ of bad excuses.

There was no way this could actually go right for him.

But then Cap moved, albeit agonizingly slow. He reached into his shoe and pulled out a ball of newspaper. Carefully, he peeled back the paper to reveal a glowing orange rock. Peter was sure his eyes bulged out of his head. That was the Soul Stone. Right in front of him. He was actually going to get the Soul Stone. He was going to be able to see Tony again. Ohhhhhh man this was crazy!

“I take it you recognize this?” Cap smirked. “You’re sure you want it? It’s dangerous, especially since no one ever really figured out its nature.”

Peter swallowed back his excitement. He had a feeling that this was still a delicate negotiation, and Cap wasn’t going to be swayed easily. “I know,” he said. “But it’s not much safer with you than it is me. No one is safe with it.”

“Have you actually considered the risks?”

The moment on the donut ship came back to him--when Tony had told him that there was no way he’d thought things through when he’d climbed aboard. Those were simpler times. “Probably not all of them, but I’ve given it some thought. You’re not as strong as you used to be, sir, and I’ve got my own superpowers, including one that lets me sense when something’s about to happen. If someone comes for it, I’ll know.”

Cap drew in a long breath, staring into the Stone like he was trying to find some sort of wisdom in it. “Ever since I decided to stay in the past with Peggy, I’ve felt a sort of hostility coming from this thing. I can’t explain it, but it almost feels like it despises me.”

Peter clamped his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was to blow it now.

“This person that wants it--whom you trust and have known for years--are they connected to the Stone in some way?”

Again, it felt like a very random question. “How do you mean?”

“Like I said, we never found out what the Soul Stone was for. On top of that, the hostility I’ve always felt from it, and now the urge to trust you, despite me having no real reason to other than knowing Tony trusted you...” He trailed off and stared hard into the thing.

“What are you asking?”

“Was Tony the one who contacted you?”

Peter completely blanked. Did...did Cap just _guess_ everything he was trying to cleverly keep a secret? Did he just _guess_ the truth?

Cap looked up at Peter’s face and chuckled. “I think I just found my answer. It’s a good thing you wear that mask, because you’re pretty awful at keeping secrets. How in the world do you maintain a secret identity?”

“Um...I’m pretty bad at it, actually,” Peter snickered with a half-hearted, trying to mask the discomfort rising from his stomach. He was pretty sure he was failing at that, too; he could feel his face burning red.

“You might want to work on that,” the man smiled. “Now hold out your hand. I don’t want you to drop this thing.”

Peter reached out a shaking hand. This was happening. This was _happening_! He was still awake, right? This wasn’t a dream?

Cap dropped the shining rock into his hand, but there was no power surge or anything. Maybe a whisper of relief that wasn’t just his own, but nothing like what he’d seen from Tony’s and Thanos’s go with the Stones. He sort of expected something a bit more grandiose. At least his arm wasn’t going to burn off.

“A bit lackluster, huh?” Cap said. “I was a bit surprised at first, myself, but after awhile, I got to thinking that maybe the power was actually _inside_ the Stone, if that makes any sense.”

Peter nodded. “All the other ones controlled something physical. Except for maybe the Mind Stone, I guess, but no one knew anything about this one.”

“Plus, it needed a sacrifice to be obtained.”

Suddenly, things weren’t so exciting. “That’s what happened to Ms. Romanov, right? She sacrificed herself to get it?”

Cap nodded, suddenly looking even older than he already did. “Her and Clint fought about it, but she was too stubborn to let him die.”

They were silent for a long moment, neither wanting to broach the topic of dead Avengers. Besides, Peter was certain that Cap had lost plenty more friends, including his wife. And judging by the look of him, he might still live quite some time. Being a supersoldier had its perks, but it must’ve been hard to outlive everyone.

Cap drew in a long breath and stared at the sandwich he still hadn’t touched. “I won’t keep you, Peter. I’m sure you want to get to work on that right away.”

It was certainly tempting. The little orange stone seemed to glow just a little brighter, almost as if Tony was telling him to get a move on. But...Cap seemed so...alone. Most of his friends were gone, and the others were busy Avengers who hadn’t been around for his past 80 years. Plus, Peter couldn’t really talk to Tony until he went to sleep, so…

“Would it be alright if I stayed a bit?” he asked.

The other man stared at him. “Aren’t you busy?”

Peter shrugged. “Not really. Besides, you just seem a bit...lonely. It’d be rude to just come in, take your stuff, and then leave.”

Cap smiled, the sadness lifting. “I can see why Tony likes you.”

“What can I say, Captain? I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spiderman.”

He laughed. “I’m sure there’s plenty of things we could talk about. But first thing’s first, call me Steve, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I was going to have them fight each other, and Peter panic about it later, but the story sort of wrote itself. Besides, why would Steve fight a kid anyways? That doesn't make any sense.
> 
> Hope you liked this part!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to personal reasons, I neglected writing for about a week. I still managed to finish this chapter, though, so that's good. I've only just started on the next one, but the semester's over for me, so hopefully I'll get it done by next Monday.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Steve’s not _that_ bad,” Peter said. He sat next to Tony, back in the orange wasteland. “It probably would’ve been easier to just ask him.”

“Oh he’s ‘Steve’ now, huh?” Tony huffed, glaring at the sand. “When did _that_ happen?”

“Dude, you were there.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Okay, _technically_ yes, I was watching, but that doesn’t mean you had to _listen_ to him.”

Peter crossed his arms. “I just said he wasn’t that bad, not that you were wrong! What’s with all the edge?”

The man sighed and stood up, pointedly not looking at Peter. “No, he’s not _that_ bad, but that doesn’t change the fact that he acted on selfish impulse and ignored any responsibilities he had.”

“Kettle, meet Pot,” Peter muttered.

Tony’s eyes shot up at him. “What did you just say?” he accused.

“You heard me.”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s _Potts_ to you, young man,” he muttered.

Peter snickered and picked up some of the sand, letting it run through his fingers. It disturbingly reminded him of when he’d turned to dust. He quickly shook it off and looked up at his mentor, who was pacing now. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

Tony glanced at him. “What was the question?”

“Why does it make you upset?”

He threw his hands in the air and walked a bit away to brood or something. Maybe there _wasn’t_ a reason? No, this was Tony. There was always a reason for _everything_. Maybe he just didn’t know how to phrase it. Maybe it was better to change the subject.

“I don’t think he realized he’s in a different timeline,” Peter said lightly.

“He didn’t,” Tony scoffed. “He’s lucky he got back to this one without much trouble.”

“How _did_ you wind up back in the right timeline?”

He waved his hand dismissively, still not looking at Peter. “After Peggy died, I managed to drag him back. He never even noticed because he was too busy evading the past and finding a new life.”

Peter stared wide-eyed at his mentor. He couldn’t help it. “How’d you do that? Is that something that the Stone allows you to do? Did holding all the Stones give you superpowers? Maybe something else?”

Tony finally turned back, glaring at the ground. His eyebrows were tight with thought. “I honestly don’t know. Ever since I held that gauntlet, I’ve felt...different. It’s not anything I can really explain, there’s just something that’s changed.”

That look of frustration must’ve meant he’d been trying to figure it out for quite some time. “Not to point out the obvious or anything, but you _did_ die.”

He waved his hand again. “It’s not that. It’s like I...like I know things I shouldn’t. Like I can instinctively sense things that I couldn’t possibly know. It’s how I found our original timeline, and even _that_ I don’t remember consciously doing, I just know I _did_.”

Peter wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but he shot Tony the most encouraging smile he could muster. “Maybe once we get you out of here, we can figure it out?”

Tony scratched his beard, eyes finally softening a little. “Yeah. We’ve just got to figure out how to do that, first.”

“Any ideas on how to start?”

“One.”

Peter glanced to the side. “Care to elaborate?” he asked hesitantly.

He ran a hand through his hair. “A while back, the Avengers worked with a scientist named Helen Cho. She made this...this _thing_ that could print living tissue. I don’t remember what it was called, but that doesn’t matter. Just Google it or something when you wake up. Thing is, she couldn’t make a living body. Not until Ultron figured it out for her and made Vision, at least. She used to work at the Avengers facility, but I have no idea where to find her now.”

“So what, I just find her, and…have her build you a new body or something?”

“No, because she won’t have any vibranium to make it happen.”

A jolt ran through Peter’s mind. “You want a body made out of vibranium? Are you trying to become Vision 2.0!?”

Tony clapped his hands together and ran one up his left forearm. “No, Pepper would kill me if I tried that, and I don’t fancy dying for _real._  But vibranium is required to start the process. You’ll need my DNA, bit of vibranium, Cho’s tech, and a genius who knows how to use it.”

“Which would not be me,” Peter gulped. “Biology isn’t really my thing.”

Tony sniffed. “Yeah, please don’t turn me into Frankenstein’s monster.”

Peter tried to smile back, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Was...was that it, then? Could he just... _not_ bring Tony back after all? Was he going to be confined to this wasteland for eternity? That wasn’t fair to him at all!

No. No, wait. There _was_ someone who could help! “What about Shuri?”

Tony’s tongue clicked. “Good call, kid. You’ll have to find a way to contact her, though.”

“She gave me one of her bead thingies after the funeral,” Peter shrugged. “I haven’t figured out how to use it yet, though.”

“Don’t those things have some sort of neural interface?”

Peter grimaced. “Yeah, but I don’t have any way of connecting to it.”

“Well then…” Tony scratched at his beard, as if he hoped a plan would fall out of it. “Do you have a way to contact Bruce?

“No. He’s off with Mr. Barton working on something. Last I heard, they were in Russia.”

Tony stared out at nothing, worry creasing his face. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Shrugging, Peter got to his feet and stood next to the man, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t sound very convinced.

Peter focused on getting away from any wayward Avengers. “I’ll figure out how to talk to Shuri, Mr. Stark. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

Tony sighed and shook his head. “No, kid. You’re fine. I’d better get you back, though.”

“Wait.”

His mentor looked up, surprised. “Kid, you’ve gotta wake up. You’ve got school and shit.”

Dammit, why did he do that? “I just...wanted to ask you...um…” This was a dumb idea. He should’ve just let Tony send him back. Too late, now, he supposed. “C-can I call you Tony?”

Tony seemed to shut down for a moment. His facial expression was priceless, like he was in that one meme with all the crazy numbers and math flying across the screen. Finally, a broad smile spread across his face. “Yeah, sure, kid. Call me whatever you like.”

Relief washed over him; he’d been meaning to ask that for a while, but there was never really a good time. Then he’d died, then _Tony_ had died, and he figured his chance was over. Second chances were nice. He grinned back. “‘Whatever I like,’ huh? You should never give me that much creative freedom.”

“Peter,” Tony warned. But he was still smiling.

“Old man,” Peter snickered.

Tony swatted the back of Peter’s head. “Time to wake up, you little brat.”

“Alright. See ya later, Tone-ster. Wait no, _Toaster_.”

“Get out of my wasteland.”

Peter woke up cackling. “Sure thing, Mr. Shrek,” he murmured, forcing himself up to shut off his blaring alarm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figuring out how they got back in the alpha timeline was a bit of a pain, but I've got some stuff in mind. I also have plenty of dumb things to call Tony later on.


End file.
